I look over at the now familiar voice, Colton. He looks like he hasn't slept, his hair dishevelled and his usual pristine suit crinkled. "What do you mean?" I ask into the wind. Colton runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before responding.

"When you'd need an escape... you'd always come out of this door and go to the house on Henry Way, you spent a lot of your time there," he informs me and I remember him vaguely brushing over the subject.

"Zach and I... we'd go there as children," I smile fondly, reminiscing. "I'd love to see it again," I say but Colton's face drops.

"The house is... destroyed," his voice travels through the wind and it feels like a punch in the gut as the words process in my mind. It's destroyed...

"Destroyed? How?" I question as Colton strides toward me, the wind ruffling his hair more.

His beauty really is unmatched.

"We can go there and I can tell you... if you'd like," he suggests and I nod my head slowly.

***

Colton

Seeing her look at me as if I were just a mere stranger in passing hurts more than words can describe. But I am reminded that I haven't lost her completely when she does little things like this. It's odd that even though she doesn't remember, she does the same things that she had done before - maybe it's a subconscious thing of some sort?

I am trying my hardest to be optimistic and convince her that we will restore her memories but I see the hope slipping from her and her eyes losing the usual brightness that resides in them.

We walk in a comfortable silence as we pass a few people milling about. I can't help but be a little happy that she has forgotten some things. Like the way I had treated her and the things I had done that I know she'd hate me all over again for.

I haven't told her everything, just a vague explanation of the last month and I know that she deserves to know but that selfish part of me can't stomach the thought of telling her it all.

"I had actually followed you that day," I say and meet her eyes. Her eyes that I love so much, the beautiful mixture of brown and green - my favourite feature about her other than her kind heart that continuously forgives me for my mistakes.

"For some reason I am not surprised," she laughs and I relish in the noise. Rose hasn't laughed enough the last couple of weeks.

I can't help but feel a slim bit of happiness for her that she has been relieved from those memories that had haunted her. I never understood why things had affected her so much but I've soon realised that, that is a problem of my own.

She lifts her fingers to her temples and winces a bit, so subtle that I barely even noticed. "What's wrong?" I ask but she shakes her head.

"I've just had a really bad headache all day," she says and I halt.

"We can go back if you want to," I suggest but she grabs my hand and drags me along. The feeling of her hand in mine is indescribable, her small hand fitting perfectly.

I look down at our entwined hands, her beautiful clear skin with my tattooed skin. "Oh sorry," she immediately removes her hand from mine and the loss of contact stings.

"It's... fine," more than fine. I want nothing more than to touch her for the rest of my life, to revel in the feeling of her skin against mine.

"As you were saying," she says sweetly and gives me a small smile.

"I'd followed you and... there was an attempt on your life. The roof had caved beneath us because for some absurd reason you wanted to sit on there," I laugh to myself. "We jumped off just in time but the house blew into smithereens, you saved my life," I say and meet those hazel eyes again.

Henry Way is just ahead and I hope that she isn't too upset by the scene. Even though she hadn't told me anything about the house, I knew it had meant a lot to her by how much she would go there.

"There's a lot to unfold there," she laughs nervously and I put my hand on the small of her back. I had expected her to flinch away from my touch but she let me place my hand there and I let myself smile like an idiot.

***

As soon as she sees the rubble and debris of it, I can practically hear her heart shatter at the sad excuse of the house. I don't understand why she is so drawn and attached to a house that wasn't even hers but I guess she has her reasons.

"The rebels did this?" she whispers beside me and I nod.

Now it's just a pile of rocks, glass and wood - the odd photograph or broken piece of furniture here and there.

She brings both hands to her head and leans forward a little. "Are you sure it's just a headache?" I question and her breathing becomes strained. "Rose..." I say nervously.

"It feels like... my brain is on fire," she whimpers a little and I'm at a loss for words.

"You need to go back to the hospital wing, this can't be normal," she looks up at me and her eyes are filled with tears from the pain.

"It...hurts so much," she cries and I am torn between throwing her over my shoulder or trying to see if it will pass. I swear to the heavens, if this is something Maximus didn't tell me about...

Rose falls to the floor but I manage to catch her before her knees hit the pavement. I hold her close to me as she cries in pain. "It's gonna be okay," I say before bringing both of my hands over hers.

"I was... writing in my diary," she gasps for air and my heart stops, I specifically hadn't told her that because I wanted to give her the diary when she had remembered. "You... you had... glass in your shoulder," her voice breaks and I rest my head against hers.

"How do you know this?" I whisper and she sobs, pressing her hands even harder on her head. I manage to pry her hands away and I rub soothing circles on her temples.

"I don't know... it just appeared as if it were there the whole time," she whispers as her breathing calms. My hope is restored, if she remembered this then she's most likely going to remember everything else with time. "It hurt so badly though," I can hear the remnants of the pain in her voice and I kiss one of her temples.

I won't let myself get carried away though, just because it happened this one time doesn't mean that it'll happen again.

"Let's go back," I say and she nods a little but doesn't make a move to get up. She rests her forehead against my chest and I sigh in relief at the feeling of being so close to her. I can live with this, I can live with her being so close to me but so far away.

I have to, there's no way I am going to let go of her now.

***

After a while of sitting in the middle of the empty road, I finally managed to get Rose back to the facility and back to her room. I figured she needed her own space and her eyes lit up as she saw her room as if it were the first time again. Of course it was for her, but she doesn't remember the last time we were in here together.

The way I peeled her clothes off of her body and kissed every inch of her skin.

I force the thoughts out of my head - I can't be thinking about her in this way, not whilst she is in this vulnerable state. She perches on the edge of the bed and furrows her brows at me.

"What?" she questions cautiously and I rub the back of my neck.

"Nothing," I say quickly, too quickly and she laughs lightly to herself. "Everything is as it was the last time you were in here... the wardrobe, the bathroom," I gesture to the doors and she nods before standing up and exploring her bedroom.

I watch her as her eyes glow brighter as she sees the size of the walk in wardrobe, the way she runs her fingers along the fabric of the clothes.

"I'm just going to get in the shower," she says and I'm about to say something along the lines of 'mind if I join you' but then realise that it's probably not the best thing to say to someone in this situation.

"Yeah of course... I'll leave you to it," I say and she smiles before I leave.

As soon as I am out of the door, I trek to my father's office to talk to him about the event coming up and how we plan to execute it without alerting the rebels.

Mainly because I need something to distract me from her.

***

Rose

The hot water does wonders to my throbbing head and aching body. The pain was profound but if that's what I have to go through in order to get my memories back then I would gladly go through it again in a heartbeat.

I wrap a towel around my body and wrap one around my hair before walking back into my bedroom. I am still in awe about all of this being mine. I saw the way Colton was watching me and I had to try my best not to shiver under his gaze.

I'm just glad that I finally have enough space to breathe and to collect my thoughts or lack there of.

A ding comes from the nightstand and I open the drawer. A phone... my phone. I fish it out of the drawer to find multiple notifications, the most recent being from Colton.

Everything okay?

I roll my eyes at the question.

You left not twenty minutes ago, everything is fine.

I reply back and set the phone back down. I'm not sure what to do with myself, what would I usually do?

I decide on snooping in my own room. A lot of the drawers are empty but I hear something move in one. Opening it, I see the dagger my mother had given me. My heart aches in my chest as I remember her handing it to me mere days before she died.

As soon as my fingers brush the handle of the knife, the searing pain in my head returns. I drop to my knees once again as the images push their way forward. I rock back and forth, cradling my head in my hands as tears prick my eyes.

My vision goes black at the edges as I see a man dropping dead in front of me, then a person getting shot in the head, me driving a knife through a boy, me killing more people.

What had I done?

I thought they were just meaningless dreams... I'm a killer, a murderer. The pain is so overwhelming I'm afraid I may pass out.

I wanted to remember the good things, not all of whatever this is.

I remember Colton holding a knife to my neck, training with him, going to war with him by my side. I remember the hurtful things he would say to me continuously and how I would forgive him every time. I remember him... killing Dylan.

But I also remember... falling completely and undeniably in love with him. Him consuming my thoughts and how my body would yearn and beg for his touch. Him taking me on that very bed, that must of been the reasoning behind his smug face.

I remember being taken by the rebels and the disgusting things they would do to me, how they would try to beat information out of me and how they'd touch me in the most vulgar ways. How I had made that boy believe I had feelings for him so I could use him to get out, for my own selfish ways, then killed him in cold blood.

I remember everything.

I am laying on the floor gasping for air as more images press their way forward. I try to stay conscious but the immense pain and all of the images assaulting my mind is too much.

I welcome the darkness and I let it swallow me whole.